


Until the breaking of the world

by Elesianne



Series: Fëanorian marriages [9]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Dreams, F/M, First Age, Grief/Mourning, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-02 17:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10223195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elesianne/pseuds/Elesianne
Summary: Maglor's wife died in the Second Kinslaying, yet she still visits him.Though marked as part of my Fëanorian marriages series, this works as a standalone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No [Fëanorian week](https://feanorianweek.tumblr.com/) prompt applies today. Also Maglor lost my 'angst, fluff or something in between' raffle and consequently gets a sad story. This takes place shortly after the Third Kinslaying. Warning: there is a very briefly described death scene.
> 
> The Tinweriel featured here is my take on Maglor's semi-canonical wife. She has appeared very briefly in a couple of fics of mine, but it doesn't matter at all if you're not familiar with those stories.
> 
> EDIT. // I realised I originally accidentally used a Sindarin name for Maglor and a Quenya name for his wife in this fic, thus I changed Maglor’s name to Makalaurë here for linguistic consistency so that Tolkien’s ghost wouldn’t come to haunt me. I think it makes sense that he'd use his childhood name about himself in his own dream.

Tinweriel still comes to him in dreams, years after she draw her last rattling breath in his arms, and Makalaurë doesn't know whether to curse those dreams or give thanks for them.

He should have expected them, perhaps. Caranthir once told him, on a night that was dismal even by the standards of Amon Ereb and after he had drunk far more than was his custom, that when he dreamt of his wife who stayed in Aman, it was as if they had never parted.

Waking up was losing her all over again, Makalaurë's brother had said, the dark depths of his eyes so full of pain that Makalaurë had to look away, and after he saw Caranthir to bed he went to his own and held Tinweriel so tightly that she woke and asked what was wrong with him.

And now Makalaurë loses Tinweriel every morning, though even in the dreams he knows she is dead. The two of them even talk about it.

'Why are you still here, with me?' he finally dares to ask her when over three decades have passed since she died and became a regular visitor in his dreams. He almost trusts now she won't suddenly stop doing so.

'I promised you that I would always follow you', she says, trailing her hand in the warm water of the sun-kissed lake by whose shore tonight's dream takes place. The waves lapping at Makalaurë's feet feel as real as anything ever has.

There is no birdsong though, nor any other sounds of living beings but his own voice.

Tinweriel continues, 'When you swore with your father, I swore to stay by your side.'

She says it like it's that simple.

'I didn't think your promise would carry this far', he says and studies the curling ends of her dark hair, the curve of her jaw, the silver flecks in her grey eyes, just in case this is the last dream.

Tinweriel smiles, and Makalaurë cherishes the smile. There were so few of those in their last years together; Tinweriel's mouth was most often drawn into a tight line of determination hiding dwindling hope.

'You always told me that I am even more stubborn than you are', she says.

'Mm.' He twines his arms around her from behind, rests his chin on her shoulder and breathes in her scent. It all feels so real, the warmth of her and the other familiar sensations, yet he cannot forget that it is all an illusion of one kind or another.

He _cannot_ forget the sound of unimaginable pain Tinweriel made when the spear of a Doriathrim guardsman pierced her armour, nor the moment, soon after, when he heard that last horrible breath and saw all light in her eyes fade away.

He closed her eyes then and let go of her lifeless body, yet here she is, asking him whether he is all right. Once again.

'Makalaurë my love', she says in a tone of concern.

He can't answer; he just holds on to her, praying not to wake but already feeling a chill in his limbs that doesn't belong to this sunlit dreamworld.

'Marriage doesn't end in death', Tinweriel reminds him, her softly spoken words accompanied by the fierceness that always lived beneath her sweet voice. 'Until the breaking of the world, you and I are bound together. That is what we swore to each other before all those other oaths.' She turns and kisses his cheek.

'I am here as long as you need me', she tells him, the touch of her lips on his skin fading away like a whisper as Makalaurë wakes.

He lays still for a long time, trying to decide whether he is relieved or terrified by her words, before he goes to wake up the twins and lets their bright young voices banish from his mind the shade on the sunny lakeshore in a land that never was.

**Author's Note:**

> It's up to each reader to decide if Tinweriel visiting Maglor's dreams is some strange grace granted by Mandos and Lórien and it's actually her, or if Maglor's bereaved spirit is making up stuff for him out of memories and wishes so that he can cope. I like the ambiguity so I haven't even decided for myself.
> 
> Also I don't know if it makes Maglor's eternal seaside walking tour more or less depressing if he spends his nights having conversations with his dead wife in his head. If you have opinions on this, or any other comments, I'd be happy to hear them :)


End file.
